


Forget Me Not

by indecisive (darling_highness)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, F/F, Fluff, High School AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-05-12
Packaged: 2018-03-26 10:25:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3847444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_highness/pseuds/indecisive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lame cuties in high school fall in love you know the drill (it's a multi-chapter work don't let ao3 lie to you)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The shadows had already grown long on that late summer evening, bringing the chirping of crickets and the call of mothers beckoning their children home for dinner. Dean drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his car, eyeing the quaint suburban street he was parked on. He grew impatient and gave the horn a short toot, looking at the house to his left. The door opened at last and Charlie hurried down the steps. Dean honked the horn again as she walked around the front of the car and jumped. She threw an angry glare at him before finally throwing open the passenger door and settling in on the leather seat.

“Your car smells like sex," she complained.

Dean laughed and shifted the Impala into gear, his reply coming easily. “What can I say? Everybody loves me.”

Charlie grinned and smacked his shoulder. “You're as disgusting as this car."

A look of absolute offense struck Dean's features, making an “ugh!” sound before running his hand along the dashboard and saying “She didn't mean it, baby.”

The duo arrived at their destination presently, seeing as the high school they attended wasn't very far away. They exited the car and headed towards the football field hosting a game already in action. Everyone from school would come to cheer on their home team, and do plenty of other things like hook up behind the bleachers.

“Who're you looking for today? Going to hang out with Lisa again, or what about Benny?” The redhead inquired as they walked.

Dean shrugged. “I think I might find someone else to fool around with. I'm in the mood for a guy today and you've been drafted to help me find one,” he remarked with a snicker and a playful push to his friend's arm. She groaned in response but any other protest was drowned out by the deafening roar of an entire stadium cheering as one of the teams scored. So much energy in one place excited Dean immeasurably. He quickened his pace as they finally made it to the bleachers, the duo taking long strides to reach the top-- their “skirts and slicks lookout” as Charlie liked to call it. The girl leaned against a railing, eyes panning over the familiar heads of the student body. Lawrence High was a big school, but when you were popular with it's students, you learned names quickly. Charlie nudged Dean, pointing to the left of the mass of people.

“Who is that? I don't recognize the haircut. He's sitting with Meg-- over there, stupid!” She sighed with exasperation.

“Oh. The kid in the trench coat?” Dean questioned. She answered a vigorous “yes”, Dean following with another “ohhhhhh." “He doesn't look familiar at all. Let's go scope this out.”

As he was about to trot down the steps once again, Charlie stopped him with an incredulous look. “We don't talk to Meg, remember? She's... _You know!_ ” She said that last part through clenched teeth, “I shouldn't have to even explain! What are you thinking?”

Dean grinned, replying, “I'm thinking fresh meat. New kid means he probably doesn't know my reputation yet.”

Shrugging, Charlie took a few steps down the stairs. “It's a long shot, Dean. Word gets around quick especially with people like Meg. For all we know he could be another one of her kind.” Dean didn't bother responding. He was already on his way over to the pair, hopes high. He was always looking for a quick lay, and personality didn't really matter when you were just going to fuck them and bail right after. They finally came upon Meg and her friend, shoving aside the people on the bleachers in front so they could sit. Dean swiveled around, straddling the metal beam they called a seat.

“Hey Meg,” He muttered coyly. Dean attempted a charming smile. “It's been a while, hasn't it?”

Meg rolled her eyes, angling her head in the direction of trench-coat kid. “ _Great_ , the vultures are here. What do you two want?” Her voice always had a condescending tone, with the way she lisped slightly and spoke through clenched teeth. “We're trying to watch the game, if you two meatbags couldn't tell.”

Charlie wrangled her way in, speaking to the new kid. “Hey there," she laughed tentatively. "My name's Charlie. Are you new here? What's your name?” She smiled that charming smile and extended a hand in the boy's direction. He looked to be in the same year as the other three, square jaw and the creases between his eyebrows giving it away.

“I'm Castiel.” his deep voice rang out like music to Dean's ears. Hot _damn_. Cas shook Charlie's hand and smiled. She released his hand after a moment and patted his knee.

“How about you tell me about yourself? You seem like a pretty cool guy, and we're,” she gestured to Dean with her head, "always looking for people like that to hang out with."

Meg scoffed as she swatted Charlie's hand away, “Buzz off, creep. Cas hasn't even been here half a term and you're already trying shit.”

“Not her so much as me,” Dean muttered, smirking to himself. "Of course, you should know that. It's no secret how all around great I am." Castiel's face seemed to turn red, and Dean's ego inflated. Charlie and Meg both rolled their eyes. “I'm Dean. Why don't you tell me a little about where someone fine as you came from?” His tone was lewd and beckoning, causing Meg to make a sort of gagging sound. She twirled the black strands of her hair around her fingers and resorted to talking to Charlie about the game. The girls had turned their focus to the field and away from the boys. Meanwhile, Dean was chatting Castiel up, asking about his likes and feigning interest in the entire matter. He had gotten good at pretending to be interested in what someone was saying. It was necessary if he was going to get a girl's trust. He didn't ever need it for long though. One or two times in the back seat was enough and he was ready to move on to the next victim. Even sometimes when he was fooling around with one, he already had his other target ready to be snatched. It was rare for him to go dry, but became more common as he reached the upper class years of high school since people became wary. His good looks and charm were a good way to get a quick fuck, however that wasn't all Dean was. Dean was intelligent and his grades really showed it. He just didn't talk about it for fear of being passed off as a geek. His life revolved around taking care of Sam and himself when it wasn't focused on school work. He didn't have a job because their dad would send home money every month, and Dean would pocket whatever extra there was for special occasions, so that left a little more time otherwise. His acting like a badass who didn't give a shit about school was just that. Acting.

The boys chatted for a long time, Dean listening intently until his phone rang. It was Sammy calling him. Castiel fell silent to allow him the chance to answer the call. “Dean?” Sam's voice rang clear through the device, “I need a ride home from the game.”

“I thought you were with your friends. Weren't they going to drive you home?” Dean inquired.

Here, Sam hesitated. “We were hanging out near the bleachers for the opposing team and they ditched me when a group of guys started giving us trouble. They beat me up,” he grumbled.

“Well did you fight back?” The other three were giving him a weird look because they could only hearing one side of the conversation. “I know you know how to defend yourself, Sam.”

“They were three big guys, Dean! They held me down! I'm by your car. Hurry up, I wanna go home,” he demanded.

Dean hung up the phone and expelled a tired groan. He slid the cheap cellphone back into his jeans pocket and looked at Cas. “I gotta go. Sorry to cut things short, dollface,” he grinned. The charming son of a bitch ran his fingers through his hair as he stood up. “Charlie, c'mon, we gotta take Sammy home.” Charlie murmured in protest but stood up with him anyway. Turning back to Castiel, Dean quirked his head sideways. “Woulda' really liked to get to know you more intimately.” Dean winked and Cas bit his bottom lip slightly.

Cas managed a smile. “Some other time,” he assured.

They were about to finally depart before Dean stopped short. “Do you have a pen?” Castiel blinked and shrugged. Meg sighed loudly and fished around in her purse before pulling out a blue pen and handing it to Dean. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned back to watching the players preform. Dean took the ballpoint and Cas's hand, writing his cell number on the transfer student's wrist. “Text me sometime,” he breathed, chucking the pen back to the black-haired girl before giving a sort of half wave to them. The duo set off yet again, returning to the Impala to find the freshman leaning against the passenger side. Sam looked up at them and flashed them a false smile. His left eye was already blackening with a bruise, lip busted, and a long cut over one of his eyebrows down the side of his face. “Jesus, Sam. Let's go get a steak on that shiner.” Dean frowned and grabbed his brother's face, turning it to examine the damage more thoroughly.

Sam winced. “It's just Sam, by the way,” he mumbled.

“What? I did say Sam..?” Dean implored.

“You called me Jesus Sam. It's just Sam... I mean I know you worship me 'n all, but that's a little much...” Sam was grinning ear to ear as it donned on Dean what he meant. Charlie was howling with laugher in the background, and Dean smiled as well.

“You're awful at jokes, Sammy,” he teased. “Get in the damn car, and so help you God if you even spill a drop of blood on my seats.” They all climbed into the ocean liner of an automobile, Dean at the wheel, Sam in the middle and Charlie to his right. Sam refused to sit in the back and Charlie wouldn't give up her seat, so they all squeezed in front. It wasn't hard since Sam and Charlie were both pretty petit (aside from Sam's giraffe legs). They rode home, spirits high once they managed to cheer up Sam, singing along to the radio, ending the evening with movies on the couch and order-in Chinese food. Charlie stayed over pretty late since it was a Friday night. Her mother was lenient with Charlie, so she did a lot of whatever she wanted.

It wasn't until Dean was lying in his bed, staring into space, did he remember his previous encounter with Cas at the game today. He checked his phone, and to his dismay the screen displayed there were no new messages of any sort. Was Castiel just being polite earlier? Was he not into guys? Dean didn't even think to ask, and Cas didn't openly offer any info on his sexuality, let alone how he felt about the flirting. _Oooooh, shit._


	2. I'm Not That Kind of Guy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> who doesn't like a plate of shut-down with a pint of ice cream for dessert

Dean woke with a start the next morning. His eyes shot open as a loud crash of what sounded like plates hitting the floor echoed into his room. The brunette groaned and clutched his hand over his pounding heart, shutting his emerald eyes. He lay like that for a while before he decided to check his phone for the time. It was 10:28 and he had a grand total of zero text messages to read. Dean frowned. He felt incredibly self conscious and a little dumb for assuming Castiel was at least into guys. He returned his phone to his nightstand with a dejected sigh and rose to go see what was happening downstairs. “Sammy?” He rasped.

“What?” Sam yelled back from the kitchen.

Dean pushed up his shirt to scratch his abdomen. He trudged down the hall, turning with a squint into the kitchen. “You makin' a mess in here?”

Sam was holding a broom in one hand and dustpan in the other. “Nah, just food.”

“You're so clumsy lately. 's all these growth spurts.” Dean's eyes swept the floor before he entered the room fully. “Here, whaddaya wanna eat? I'm gonna make some eggs.”

“That's fine,” he agreed. Sam dumped the contents of the pan into the trash bin and put the broom away. He sat at the kitchen table with a book, sticking his nose in it and leaving Dean to make their breakfast. Sam looked up from the novel with a jolt as if a great revelation had hit him. “Hey, can you drive me downtown later? Jess and I are going to see a movie.”

“Did you finish your homework?” Dean inquired, not even looking up from cracking the eggs into the frying pan.

Sam loosed a sigh of utter apathy. “Of course I did, Dean.”

The older of the brothers turned around and raised his hands in surrender, making an awkwardly nonchalant face. “Hey, I'm just checking. Don't get all pissy with me.” They both chuckled at his reaction.

Dean had finally dropped Sam off. On his way home, he spotted a familiar figure escaping. She reclined the summer heat beneath an umbrella of one of the many Starbucks's in town. Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot out front and climbed out, heading to the sidewalk. “Meg!” he called, thrusting his hands into his front pockets. Face smug with a grin, he sauntered to her with that bow-legged swagger only Dean Winchester could make look so appealing.

The woman peered up from her phone at him with utter distaste. Her red lips curved into a grimace. “Meatbag,” she greeted disdainfully. “I didn't think cockroaches liked sunshine.”

Dean chuckled. “Your ego throws enough shade for my outdoor comfort.” He scraped a metal chair along the concrete and fell into it, kicking his feet out before him.

Meg couldn't help but smirk, bowing her head to regain her composure. “Buzz off either way. If you couldn't tell, I'm trying to enjoy the end of my summer _with out_ annoying boys getting in the way of my life.” Castiel took that moment to exit the coffee shop, donning a pair of cold drinks in either hand. Dean opened his mouth to make a snippy retort, but Meg interrupted him with “Cas isn't annoying. Don't even try.”  
The sable-haired boy looked between the awkward pair decorating opposite edges of the circular table. He smiled good-naturedly and nodded at Dean, murmuring a “hello.”

Castiel handed Meg a tall brown drink and sat down with her in the shade. “Thanks a mil, Clarence.” she muttered before sipping at the perspiring coffee, shifting in her chair to be facing the street as opposed to Dean.

Dean angled his attention to Castiel then. “You never texted me,” he stated, leaning way too close. 

The boy looked like a deer caught in headlights and blushed furiously, meeting the former's gaze. “Well,” he stammered in attempt to recover, “you never asked if I had a cellphone.”

An overwhelming sense of stupidity hit Dean again. “Oh. Do you have a cellphone?”

“Of course I do.” Castiel replied matter-of-factly, sipping his drink. He wore a subtle grin when he noticed Dean looking utterly dumbfounded. “It's been less than a day since you gave me your telephone number. Did you think I would contact you right after you left the football game?”

Dean's jaw was slack with surprised. He said nothing.

“You look as stupid as you are,” Meg muttered, spectating this train wreck of a conversation. Dean was blushing and his neck was suddenly slick with perspiration as he grabbed there, rubbing it to ease this awkward feeling. He sighed and leaned back in to his own chair. Castiel and Meg exchanged glances before Cas cleared his throat to speak again, and Dean tilted his face back to the boy.

“I know what you're out for, Dean, and I gotta be honest. I'm not like that. I don't sleep around. You're cute 'n all, but I'm not going to sleep with you just because of that. You can get to know me and figure out _why_ , or you can move on.” With a slight nod, the pair rose and departed, leaving Dean to sulk in the damp outdoor heat that came in early August afternoons.

***

Dean returned to the Impala and whipped out his phone. After cranking on the A/C, he dialled Charlie's phone number.

“Yeah?” her voice echoed through the earpiece.

“Cas is a no go.” Dean reported dismally. “I'm coming over,” he added.

“Can you pick up some ice cream?”

Dean sighed. “No.”

“Oh _please_ , Dean. It's _so_ hot!” She whined, begged, and pleaded until Dean relented.

***

A short while later, Dean kicked open Charlie's bedroom door and threw a pint of chocolate ice cream and a metal spoon into her lap. “I didn't think to ask which flavour you wanted, so there's chocolate.” She had fallen asleep between the time she hung up and that moment, sitting up, mortified.

“You scared the shit out of me,” she sighed, cracking the lid off her ice cream. “So what even happened with Castiel?” Dean sat in the papsan by the open balcony doors and started on his own treat, relishing in the breeze that stirred the heavy heat.

“Apparently he's 'not like that' or whatever.”

Charlie was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fan now, her long red hair blowing into her face. “So he knows you're just at it for sex? Explain all this to me. I'm really lost right now.” Dean recounted the entire situation with Charlie nodding sagely every so often. They ate from their respective tubs in silence.

“Why don't you go for it? I mean, you haven't dated seriously since freshman year and you're going to be a senior starting tomorrow.”

Dean frowned. “Meg and I weren't 'serious'.”

Charlie rolled her eyes and drew up the most exasperated look she could muster. “You two dated for two months, Dean. That's pretty serious for you.”

“Either way.” he grumbled stubbornly.

“You're avoiding my initial question.”

Here, he hesitated. “Why would I date Castiel of all people? He's just some kid I met a day ago.”

“But he's handsome right? You don't even know anything about him yet! Go for it. Everyone loves a little mystery,” she goaded, tone sparkling with an excited passion.

“Ugh,” Dean sighed and lolled his head back, tugging at the collar of his damp shirt. “No.”

Charlie stared at Dean, completely puzzled. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing!” Dean snapped. His anger fizzled up in his chest and he clenched his teeth. He hated being called a coward. “I'm not afraid. I just don't want to put up the effort. Dating takes too much work, and when does it ever work out at this age?”

“My parents were high school sweethearts,” Charlie offered softly. “Don't you ever wanna settle down? Have a family or somethin'?”

“Family,” Dean scoffed. “Sammy is enough family for me.”

Charlie frowned and squeezed the carton in her hand. “Don't you want someone in your life that loves you? Dean, Sam won't be around you forever. He has a life of his own, and if you haven't noticed, he plans to live it. I mean- this kid wants to go to Stanford! What'll you do then?”

Dean looked at her, hesitation knitting his brow. “I'll still have you..?”

“Dean.” Charlie responded pointedly.

He threw his hands into the air and groaned. “Okay, maybe you're right.”

The redhead shrugged her shoulders. “Yeah... That tends to be the case.”

“Either way, why are we even thinking that far in advance? This is high school. High school hookups, high school flings, high school romance. It's all cheap.” Dean shoveled more vanilla bean into his mouth and pouted, the creases between his eyebrows prominent.

Charlie shrugged. “I wanted to make a point.” The brunette stared at his companion over the top of his carton, eyes lidded in a way that screamed “1000% done.”


	3. Montag

Monday morning was bleak, sluggish. Students groped for purchase on any form of consciousness as they prepared mentally and physically for the promise of a day charged with work. The brothers arrived at school, Sam a turtle with the load of books on his back, and Dean scanning the throng of people for familiar faces. Sam remained glued to his brother until he found a group of freshmen- Jess amongst them- beckoning him to join their chatter. A weight was visibly lifted from his shoulders at the revelation that there was a place for him, and he darted over, greeting his companions. Despite his reputation, Dean still maintained a plethora of friends. He was welcomed amongst the more popular crowd, what with his good looks. He fit in amongst the beautiful faces and strong men. His male counterparts often inquired as to when Dean was to finally join their football team. Dean would “lead them to greatness” as the coach said. It was a tempting prospect. Dean said he would think it over, and that was almost a week ago. He knew the retired sports legend would be turning eager eyes on this prodigy as soon as he had the chance.

The students chattered and laughed, discussing their vacations. Dean was only half at attention, keeping an eye out for Charlie. The early morning air was uncomfortably warm, and it did not help Dean's nerves in the least. Man, if August didn't suck enough. He eyed the street filled with teens and cars, picking at the hem of his t-shirt. A bob of read hair appeared in the crowed. Charlie pushed through the wallish bodies in her way and halted in front of Dean. She heaved a breathless sigh and grinned awkwardly.

“Hey there, stranger.” she said, punching Dean's shoulder.

Dean smiled, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “It's been too long.” he drawled. He saw a piece of paper clutched in the hand pressed to his abdomen and snatched it, scanning his friend's schedule. “We have mechanics and homeroom together, and you have government with Sammy.”

“Why is Sam taking government? Isn't he a freshman?” She asked, pulling away from Dean and letting his arm drop.

Dean smiled. “He's a smart kid.” he informed. “Wrote a letter to the principal or something. They liked his spunk, so he's in.”

Charlie nodded her head. “Too bad we don't have any other classes together.” Dean nodded. The school bell rang and students were herded into their homeroom classes. Monday ground on painfully slow, Dean's only relief being lunch and the prospect of going home. His classes were relatively laid back considering he had completed most of his required school credits. Drawling teachers were the thing that killed his mood most. Other than waking up early. At lunch he went to scout out his locker, eyes sweeping the halls for people he knew. A few stared at him, others said hello. He nodded and stared back. He saw Sam at a bottom locker, fiddling with the lock and it made him laugh. He continued on, however, and found his own locker around the corner. It was on the top row. A short ways down to his left, Dean noticed a familiar figure. He angled his head and saw Castiel organizing books in his own locker, face pensive. Or maybe he always looked deep in thought. Dean wasn't sure. He threw his bag inside and slammed the metal door, leaning his cotton-clad shoulder against it. Castiel was dressed in a pair of jeans and an open button-up over a grey t-shirt. His blue eyes shifted to the scrap of paper in his hand and he examined it closely, biting his lower lip.

Dean marveled at how much in his own world he was, not even appearing phased by the fact he was alone, or being watched for that matter. “Where're you headed next?” he inquired. Castiel said nothing, but continued to squint at his paper. Dean knit his brow and tried again, this time approaching as he spoke. Cas looked up, eyebrows raised.

“I heard you the first time,” he said flatly. “That's what I'm trying to figure out.” Castiel tilted his head, lips parted. Despite him being shorter, Cas still managed to look down his nose at Dean.

“Oh.” he breathed. Dean felt slightly lost, nonplussed, gazing into those cerulean eyes. “Here, let me see your schedule.” Castiel gave him the paper. They only had one class together by the looks of it, and that was English next period. “Looks like we have World Lit together.”

At that moment a pair of arms swung over Castiel's shoulders, almost hitting Dean in the face, and a man with the most shit-eating grin popped his head around. “Heya Cassie!” he grinned.

Castiel frowned, glancing at the man with dirty blond hair. “What are you doing here, Gabriel?” he inquired with a sigh.

“You forgot your lunch at home,” Gabriel informed, “and mom asked me to bring it to you.”

Castiel raised his eyebrows. “You could have left it in the office. How did they let you in here?”

“Oh, the principal knows me. She let me in,” he boasted smugly, for whatever reason.

“Thanks...” Cas muttered.

“Sure thing,” Gabriel said as he stared Dean right in the eye, smirking like he knew he had interrupted a moment. He released his brother and swayed down the hall, flashing finger pistols at anybody that looked his way.

“Huh.”

“What?”

“That's your brother?”

“Yes.”

“He's...”

“Yeah.”

“So anyway... You have anybody to sit with for lunch?” Dean's smile was back and he leaned in towards Cas, expectant. “You could always sit with me.”

Castiel shrugged. “I don't know your friends.”

“I usually sit with Charlie at lunch.” Dean noted. Cas looked a little confused, so the former was quick to add “The redhead that was at the game with me?” This cleared the other's confusion.

“I had plans to sit with Meg and her friends,” Castiel provided matter-of-factly.

“Oh I'm sure she won't mind if I borrow you.” Dean grinned. He grabbed Castiel around the shoulders and led him outside. They found Charlie sitting under a tree that bent over the chain link fence, shading the space from the sun's death beams. Charlie grinned awkwardly at the pair.

“Cas is joining us?” she asked, taking a bite out of her cold pizza. Dean nodded, patting the new kid's arm firmly. Castiel looked at Dean with a peculiar expression, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed a little. He was clearly displeased. “Have a seat.” Charlie chimed, patting the patch of grass beside her. Dean reclined on a wooden bench, resting his arm over his eyes. “So where did you live before you moved here? Why the move?” Dean heard Charlie ask.

“I lived in Angels Camp, California with my dad and sister. He sent me here to live with my mom and my brothers when my sister ran away to the East Coast to be an actress.” Castiel answered Charlie willingly, apparently glad to have an ear to listen. Dean tilted his head to watch as they talked rather than just listen. Cas was sitting with his chin in his hand, watching a bee that had perched on his finger. He turned and looked at Charlie. “She liked to dye her hair the same colour as yours.” he reminisced.

Charlie nodded, mouth full with food.

“How are you liking Lawrence?” Dean chimed in.

Castiel eyed him pensively. “It's not as bad as I expected it to be.” he relented. “I like it better here considering the population isn't a grand total of just over 3,000 people.”

Charlie was done chewing, so she asked something else. “How do you know Meg, by the way? You two seem well acquainted.”

“She's my distant cousin, I think, on my mom's side. I met her when I would come out here for the summer.” He was watching the bee intensely as he replied. They continued like that for the rest of the hour with Charlie and Dean asking Castiel all sorts of questions.

At the end of lunch, they went their separate ways. Dean and Castiel went to the English building and Charlie the tech room. When the boys entered their class, a pair of piercing brown eyes fell on them. Meg was sat at a desk in the back corner, knees resting against her table. She glared at Dean, eyes daggers, trying to cut him to shreds. The attempt only made him chuckle. He dropped his bag at the opposite side of the room and took his seat while Castiel did the same, sticking to Meg. They didn't talk for the rest of class, but Dean could feel that cold stare on the back of his head the whole time.


End file.
